


When god's away on business

by tendderpreyyy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Eye Trauma, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Multi, Slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendderpreyyy/pseuds/tendderpreyyy
Summary: "I'd sell your heart to the junk-man baby for a buck, for a buck!If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch you're out of luck, you're out of luck,The poor, the lame, the blindWho are the one's left in charge?Killers, thieves and LawyersGod's away, God's away, God's awayOn business, business"





	1. Medical

**Author's Note:**

> Split second decision to do something I've always wanted to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a bit long but I couldn't resist. i have been looking for an excuse...

"You gotta see this one mate. A real knockout..." A shrill voice stands out in the hum of barbiturates and alcohol a steady drip, compliments of the house of course.

Typically, the Market Place is a more somber affair; established outside of what was widely considered to be Junk Country Proper, and far away from any other sort of civilization. 

Outbursts like that one are all but forbidden; too much rides on comfort, an agreed upon image and delusion when you pass the front gate. 

The wave of discomfort moves through the crowd, not unlike the smell of something rotten. Weaving into the empty air between scrapper, junker, trader and suit alike. 

**'SOFT MARKET IN SESSION**

**QUIET PLEASE!'**  

\- A large wooden sign declared, hanging high above several sectioned off cubicles, hurriedly constructed in an illusion of privacy. 

_'It's not working. There are more people here than I've ever seen before.'_

At your front the crowd shifts, moving and writhing; drinking in the sight of you held down by your wrists, they all seem to heave and roil as one but you know that's only from the floodlights. 

Lights to keep the observers invisible and buyers secure with it warm and shining and nothing on you left for their imagination. 

"Admit it Pig-face, you wanna take a look-see. Grab something then..." The voice is back and closer now, but all you see are looming shadows. There is a table at your right filled with shining steel tools and sturdy looking bits of plastic and rubber. 

An unspoken rule; if any potential buyers approached they could use these items to asses your value.

"Open wide Sweetheart..." The same voice, this time you watch a soot covered hand, rasp its knuckles over a small mirror tool. 

A breath you never knew you were holding is released through your open mouth at the same time the mirror is shoved into the back of your gums. Knocking into your molars and pinching your tongue. 

"Good set of chompers on you..." His fingers push in with the mirror, aiming below it and grabbing your tongue between them; tasting like sweat and something that reminded you of chewing tinfoil. "Better than mine anyhow... HEY-" 

The hand is pulled out of your mouth along with the tool, scraping painfully along your soft palette. You can't help the gasp pulled out with it, feet and hands twisting in their bonds uselessly. 

"I'm tired of you screwing around. I'll look myself."

The floodlight is gone now, vanished behind the largest set of shoulders you've ever seen. 

 Eyes still swimming in darkness and not well adjusted yet your head is still filled with cotton. The hand he's holding in front of you taps your chin; your mouth snaps shut at the contact, but that seems to make him happier. 

You're smiling at the way his fingertips move down your chest, palming your breasts and counting each one of your ribs. 

Confident he'll find no breaks you're arching into those hands that press just hard enough your lungs creak with the weight. 

"I want to see your cunt. See if you can take me, or if you'll just break, like all the rest..." 

One hand is spread over your pelvis; thumb to pinky bridging the space between your hipbones like it's really nothing. 

Your blood feels sluggish and syrupy thick, when he raises the lubricant and squirts it onto the speculum on the table. Eyes having finally adjusted you watch him press it inside you, inch by inch. 

He's opened them now, only a hint of a stretch at all but he isn't stopping; the click, click, click is the only thing you hear above his breathing. 

The tool pushing you apart and opening you up for this massive stranger; just to see if you can before he spends a cent on you. 

You've never been more thankful for cheap corn liquor. 

"Good girl. That's enough for a finger. Do you feel proud? One fucking finger and you think that's enough?" His voice is low with arousal; no matter what he's saying otherwise. 

The tool has ceased to be cold and it feels more like a lightning rod for the heat pouring off his palm.

Another wet sound and more lubricant swiped into and around your hole. There's another few clicks and it's like you've been pulled and held open beyond thought, its getting harder to keep quiet. 

The clicks keep coming; slower but still there, sure as clockwork. 

Panting into empty air and wishing he would slow down, your loud groan sends a ripple of laughter through the crowd. They're laughing at the sweat shining on your skin an the flush of uncertainty, ruddy and patchy down the length of your body.

"P-please enough... I've had enough please." Something feels wrong, just off and that bone deep feeling of shock comes through the haze strong enough that bile is rising in your throat. 

"I'll say when you've had enough. You've got a few more inches in you..." His voice is calm and sure; but it's doing nothing for your galloping pulse rate. 

Clicking sounds that come so slowly its almost as though you imagined it if not for the pain, mind numbing and sudden complimenting the ache in your hip joints. It's getting harder to focus on the other people at all; you watch their shapes attempt to lean around the buyer and see you spread open like an anatomy textbook. 

"Please, please..." You speak it to the the air again with your words hanging in the air like dust motes. 

"Shut up. I'm almost done." He spreads your thighs apart; looking down and inside of you, his heavy breathing is the only thing you hear over your heart beat and the feeling of something deep at the center of you feels a puff of air. 

That peculiar black leather mask perched on the back of his head while his open maw and lips nearly brush your own. 

"You're so pretty and red inside; like crushed a berry. Can't wait to taste you..."

"OI, Roadie! We paying or what? Look-see's over, this one a keeper?" That shrill voice again, howling from somewhere near your right; you hear something jingling in a sack at the same moment. 

"I think I can work with this one. Got good hips..." He raises his face from between your thighs and you wail in the half-light at the lecherous stare. Licking his lips and reaching a heavily muscled arm up your torso to hold your jaw closed and silent to hear him,

"Good and ready... At least get two fingers stuffed into this cunt." 

 

 

 


	2. eye trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an attempt at a caring junkrat. still creepy and its all his fault as per usual.

 

 

There's a persistent ringing in your ears and you suspect they're bleeding too. Blinking against the sun and flat on your back the world is deathly silent, groaning sends a ripple through your chest. 

You're sucking in sand along with air, the dust hasn't even settled yet; one eye manages to open 

The sun is slipping behind the ridge. 

~

_"Have a second, my Dove?" Junkrat came swaggering into the room smelling faintly of ozone but absolutely reeking of bullshit with the cocking of his hip and jumping pulse at the hollow of his throat._

_The sun's only just moved over your eyelids, irritating and painful as the man in front of you. It's barely past three and Roadhog was dozing on the couch, you had hoped to join him and by leaning heavily against his calf and knee propped under a pink pillow._

_Cracking your eyes open rewards you with the sight of Junkrat shifting his weight from single-foot to peg, he's so excited he's vibrating in his boot. Beaming with his arms behind his back; but the way shadows fall into the dips of  his collar bones draw your gaze more readily._

_'Really needing something now. What could you possibly WANT from me now?"_

_However what comes out of you is,_

_"Of course I do."_

_Junkrat's mechanical fingers swing out to lock about your wrist, tight as a vice and he's dragging you out the door. His other hand is holding a box, you snag a peek as he tucks it against his thin and shuddering side._

_He doesn't stop and turn to you until you've cleared the house and at least a dozen uneven steps to the left away from the broken out window nearest Roadhog's head where he would hopefully remain undisturbed._

_'If Junkrat has me out here and we're too loud...Roadhog will throttle us both.'_

_You shake your head at the thought, but Junkrat's standing so close to you his chest touches your forehead,_

_'Only after he fucks me too.' The thought makes you ache and shudder._

_"Been so good to us these past few, thought you deserved a-ah... A surprise for you. Perfect little thing, just the best bit of love a junker could ask for."_

_Junkrat takes half a step back, stumbles into another and he's shoving the box into your arms hard._

_"Bloody-!" There's a puff of dust when his bony ass hits the dirt, and the gurgle of laughter you hear bubbling up from your throat as a result of the compliment and gift; is loud enough you startle yourself._

_'Colour me surprised; the whole afternoon is full of them...'_

_Then you opened the lid._

_~_

One of your eyes still wouldn't open and your whole face is rank with sweat and something else that might be blood or whatever comes out of the blisters on your lips from too much hogdrogen. 

The world is still muffled and spinning but a hand grabs around your ankle; soft and cradling the bones in a way they haven't been in recent memory. 

 The feeling of sticky blood down one side of your face is unmistakeable; along with the nausea you were all too familiar with these days, your soft body injured again. The odd mix of sensory lack and the vigilance of fear has your bladder spasming; Junkrat's steady hand on your ankle is gone and dragging its owner up to your own eye level. 

You can't seem to sit up right now, so you try to tell him; before he gets annoyed, before Roadhog wakes up and comes to investigate what all this was about. 

"Ah-I... I'm s-sso sorry-y-y..." Your words fall thick from your mouth and you hope no teeth are involved and maybe only a minimal amount of saliva. 

Junkrat braces a shaking hand on your chest, between your breasts instead of on them and that made you feel strange indeed. 

Something was off. Junkrat never missed an excuse to cop a feel; he's got his face leaned over yours with the tip of his tongue pinched between his eye-teeth and he's mouthing  _something._ At you and slow like he's got a mouthful of something soft, his fingers press onto your chin, skate over your lips and settle just under a cheekbone. 

The urge to vomit is overwhelming suddenly; your eye is still sightless or maybe still closed, but Junkrat taps his fingertip on your cheek and it's like the world disappears into the pad of his index finger. White hot and cold like drinking too much slurpee too fast a concentrated point of unthinkable fucking agony. 

Junkrat's gold tooth shines out of his crooked mouth in the dying light and you can hear him now but like he's far away or underwater, maybe its just that your ears are flooded. Either way he's cupping his hand around your open eye, catching tears in his palm like pearl after pearl. 

"This has got to come out. Too much magnesium, that's the rub; sorry about it Love. Practice makes perfect, if I had a quid for every bit of shine I've pulled outta my arse..." He's prattling away like this is the simplest thing in the world and you want to scream at him,

'This isn't in my arse. It's in my face, it's in my eye... You absolute madman.' 

But your lungs are empty and if your mouth opens only bile will come out. 

His calloused hand is still cupping the side of your face that can see; rubbing his thumb over your ear and cheek like that will make it all better. 

The whirr in his mechanical hand and the pressure in the bridge of your nose tells you he's started already; no countdown warranted for something so mundane. The mirth on his face when you groan at the sudden pinching,dripping sensation in your other eye makes your leg kick out underneath him. 

Panting under him this way still has him twitching and swollen against your hip. He presses his pelvis against your own, effectively stilling you and providing himself with much needed friction. 

He's steady as a rock and his other arm is pushing your head back and into the dirt, away from his mechanical hand pulling... whatever it is out of your eye. 

"Almost out... You look good like this. Bloodied up, not too bad and needing my help. Could you work out a 'please' for me? Just a little one, don't gotta be loud or anything. I promise." 

'What did I ever do? Why didn't I just stay away?'

The silence is deafening but you can hear him breathing deeply above you, watching you watching him; your lips working around the words he wants to hear. 

Words you need to get his help. 

'An eye for a... Well, for a "please" I suppose.' 

"P-P-Please. Please Junkrat get it out... It hurts. I-I'm gonna be sick. Am I gonna die...?" You couldn't help asking the last part. What if the blood never stopped from your ears? Or something behind your eye was severed and dying before the first stars are out. 

His barking laughter rings into the cloudless sky and the hand nearest your good eye pats you like a dog or a prized piglet. Junkrat's eyes are shining with tears of amusement by the time he's done and you can barely make out anything that isn't the press of his warm, solid body keeping you grounded and aware.

"Oh-oh Darling, you cheeky thing. Course not, you'll be fine..." He kisses you on the chin, barely a peck before he's rearing back again and pushing your face down so hard your vision blurs.

Junkrat pulls the same instant you open your mouth to ask anything else; the pain that follows ensures you don't want to.

Underneath his hips and legs your own are drumming and pounding the earth and twisting like a crocodile, it's all of your strength but he doesn't budge. Your hands dig handfuls rocks that cut into your palms but you're sure the trails your nails leave will be visible for days.

"Worst thing that happens is you end up with... Heheheh, a new hole to break in."

You scream with everything you have left and don't care who hears. 


	3. Mouth trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmhmm. Most of this was pounded out under the influence... so we'll see how my verb tenses shake out. Roadhog getting carried away... But this time only with your mouth.
> 
> EDIT 10/14/17
> 
> hahahahahaaaaa... er. two weeks late(at least) but dammit i WANT to write this one so here it is duderino's and faithful weirdos.

Topical lidocaine is surprisingly easy to come by, apparently. From the massive pump handle bottle Roadhog had procured from god only knows where, it was also cheap. 

The way he loaded glob after glob onto his index and middle finger, made your lips tingle already. 

"Your pretty little cunt deserves a break. Rat's been giving you a hell of a time of it, heh..." Roadhog is saying it with his other hand full of your chest, between all of his fingers and massive handspan he has both of your nipples pinching and rolling pleasantly.  

"Junkrat ain't gentle on you that's for fucking sure, but he's never really hurt you yet. Nothing you can't recover from." He's rumbling at your back with his wide stomach pushing onto your spine and pitching everything inside you forward. 

"Yeah... I guess." Your memory is spotty and unorganized if it was there at all... Blank spots and large blocks of unaccounted for time were common place these days. Days weren't the same in the Outback, longer and hotter; nights were worse with bone deep cold and wind and human beings chasing both in an pitiless cycle.

Junkrat was cruel and harsh, mercurial and often difficult to predict even on an hourly basis. Falling into deep, uncontrolled bouts of melancholy sometimes for days at a time; his bitten down nails digging into every exposed piece of flesh without mercy. 

Roadhog behind you(here and now and so very soild) releases your chest with a pinch and harsh squeezing that leaves your lungs empty. Eyes rolling into up into the rafters you wail and drool onto his retreating wrist, shaken by the rumble in his chest when he says, 

"Open wide, Beautiful." He's looming over you and above you, eyes flashing focused on you like you're something he always wanted to  _break._

Staring up into his mask, dizzy and doing exactly what he says the thought comes, 

_'I used to think your eyes were warm behind the lenses...'_

By the time his finger forces your gag reflex(down and useless),though you've gotten over how naive you had been. 

The other hand covers your throat and pushes down steadily against your collar bone, 'don't move' doesn't need to be said. 

Roadhog withdraws his finger smoothly and he pinches your jaw open while reapplying from the pump, careful to run it into your lips and corners of your mouth until it runs down your chin,down your neck a little too and fuck,

"You look like a filthy little slut. Drooling and waiting for my cock to stretch those lips out."

Groaning with your gullet held open sounds even more pathetic(who could be guessed), and the way Roadhog tilts the mask down hunching over to close most of the distance,

"Get those hands behind you and unzip me... leave the belt and mind the fucking cage, don't need your fingers broke." You're still groaning around his digit, though your hands get straight to it. Working down the well oiled zipper once the locking mechanism on the cage was off; the thing was solid steel near as you could tell along with the licence plate behind it. 

It's a bit of a challenge to work around your own ass and Roadhog's warm gut; both of you were getting sweaty, one from excitement, one from pain.

_'Brute. How long have you been planning this?'_

Your left hand is fishing into his fly, feeling for that hot, hard, and massive length slung sideways in his dungarees. He's huffing into your hair when you palm it, running your shaking fingertips along the veins and trying to get a grip around him. Roadhog loosens his hand on your throat, giving you more air, but only enough that you can pull it together enough to his dick out; he's not even more than half hard but when you pull him out heavy and warm, his cocks long and thick enough to strain teeth on the zipper, open or not. 

_'Just breathe, breathe... All you have to do is lick him till he cums, maybe give him a bit wristy. Nothing to worry about. Done this before. But why the lidocaine?'_

Both of your hands are around his length now, dipping slightly towards the floor between his shuddering stomach and your slow, crooked pumps. His hand is out of your mouth (finally), over the pops and crackles in your jaw and ears the sound of a wrapper is unmistakeable. 

 _'Roadhog never uses condoms. Neither of them do, not once, not ever...'_ The alarm rising in your chest at the sharp turn you had taken into the unknown, not once but twice so far. Topical lidocaine and a condom; its something special he's planned but you can't think anymore over his command,

"Get down. Get that rubber on me all the way. I don't want any of that sticky shit on my dick, got it? It's a numbing agent; and you should thank me or you will," You're spun like a doll, pushed down in front of him settling over long bruised knees and shins, tearing the worn package you wonder if he hoards these kind of special rubbers from before the Omnium or if he finds them by chance. Rolling it over his length seems to take ages and when you roll it to the base it's almost too tight but you brace it with both palms pushed painfully into his fly. 

The groan you hear above you lets you know you did good; he drags two knuckles along your flushed cheek and drops them down past your nose, you feel him push onto your chin, but only just. 

"Good and numb now, aren't you Lovely? Gonna suck my cock for real now, you're in for a real treat. I'm gonna use your throat like you've never been used before, I'm giving you some help with it of course... Got to be a gentleman for you, don't want you clamming up. " Roadhog is saying it so plainly like it's the kindest thing in the world he's done for you, intoning it slow and even. His cock twitches mere inches from your numb lips, and you feel a line of drool dribble down your sternum and over your stomach. 

_'It's not gonna fit, it can't fit, numb or not... Oh, god. It's too big. He can't really do this, can he?'_

You know he can(every time you've asked yourself, he's seemed to sense it and risen to the occasion), and undoubtedly will, whether your moaning for him or hiccuping great wracking sobs and attempting to get away. In the beginning you thought he was kinder than Junkrat, who often seemed more animal than man(mask notwithstanding) taking and doing whatever he pleased with no attempt at care for your body before, during, or even after. Although, recently he had taken to leaving his belt and canteen beside your head if you managed to stay conscious until he shot off inside you. 

Watching Roadhog point his cock towards you, even giving it a few cursory pumps with the slide of polyurethane; it feels like the world drops out from under you at the same moment you lock your jaw open for him and start really praying for the first time since you  were a kid. He's warm and throbbing through the condom and you can't help the whimper that escapes you when he pushes the head between your molars and farther back, 

"Don't you dare close those eyes... I want to see you. Stuffed full, you ever have an apple in your mouth like a roast piglet? Heheheh..." Your stomach lurches painfully, feeling like its crawled all the way up into your lungs and even your nose is burning with the specter of almost-vomit.

Through tears and snot, your eyes roll skyward and find Roadhog's mask over the rise of his belly; you can tell from here the lenses are foggy. One more push past your glottis and the filters push out and in with each one of his heavy pants; the muscles in his forearms stand out like stone when he pushes a hand into your sweaty hair propping the pads of his fingers on the nape of your neck. 

You can't move back off his cock at all now, small uneven breaths can still be managed if you flatten your tongue but you cant really feel that much anymore. His relentless push into your mouth and throat pushing all that lidocaine back too; and he's been wanting to do this for a long time clearly, the betrayal burns your eyes. 

_'Along with the humiliation of feeling betrayed by him; you're so gullible... He's the same as the other one. They're both monsters.'_

"Hnnng, you're doing good. It's okay...Shhhhh." He's staring down at your reddened face with rapt attention clear, even behind the mask. Another press forward and something gives, the absence of real pain at the left corner of your lips. It's cold and almost there but your gag reflex takes over your brain and you wail around his cock, breathless and beating his hips with your barely clenched fists. 

_'He's not even half in... I'm gonna choke. What if he won't let me up fast enough and I pass out? Would he even notice, or care?'_

Roadhog lets you back an inch or two, long enough for two shaky in and out breaths, by the time his fingers are cruel on the nape of your neck he's got twice that jammed past the point of feeling in your throat. 

Your own hand slides up through drool, up your sternum to press on your larynx and throat feather soft and barely there. Roadhog grunts and shoves forward another agonizing inch and you feel it moving under your skin. The rumble of surprise he let's out makes your stomach heave again, with a fresh new batch of tears following it.

The corners of your jaw creak and bow and in your ears it's loud as an earthquake, the whole world is focused around his twitching cock and his decision to let you breathe around it occasionally. 

_'For how long?'_

Something other than drool is rolling onto your sternum now, its hot and stickier and on some level you know it's blood. If your depth perception is anything to go by it looks like another four fucking inches before you'll be nose down in his fly. Rolling your jaw hinges seems like it's worth the risk, locked and stretched to it's absolute limit around Roadhog; he moans outright, and despite everything it makes you throb between your own sweaty thighs. 

"Just a bit more. Almost there, you've done good... For your first go. Give you a hit after this and then we'll see, bet you'd like that..." 

You really try to nod, but the scrape of your teeth gets you a tug on the short hairs on the back of your neck. So, you blink once then again in a way you hope he can translate,

_'Yes. Please, please...'_

"What's that?" Roadhog pushes another inch in, shifting his hips from side to side to make room for the base of his cock, even thicker than the head and somewhere in the back of your mind you suspect its the circumference of a baseball(at least). The jostling motion gives you a snapping sensation at the other corner of your mouth, tight like a rubber band, shocking and stinging like a bad paper cut.

Talking with your mouth full of cock is ridiculous and embarrassing; but each rumble of 'yes please,' traveling up his cock seemed to drive him closer to the edge, he couldn't really move with how much of your face was stretched around him and bleeding too. It didn't matter though, every surface of your mouth and throat pasted over every single bit of his dick like they were measured to fit together, only just.

 _'Better living through_ _pharmaceuticals.'_

"Take a deep breath... I'm gonna fuck your throat till I cum. Whether you're awake or not, you better swallow..." He moves back again and now the corners of your mouth hurt like they've been burned or cut or both. When he shoves forward again, and then some its almost a relief, but then he covers the hand at your throat with his own and he presses on the back of your neck at the same time. You can't breathe, it's amazing that a dick could make a person airtight. 

"Fucking...Slut. Just take it. I'm almost there, and watch those teeth." The last part is clearly his last warning before you get too sloppy from lack of oxygen, he won't forgive a knick even if your vision is narrowing as he says it. Blood roars in your ears so loud you don't hear the pathetic groans dragged out of you. 

His sweaty palm atop your own is the only thing keeping your own hand on your throat, you still feel the lump of his cock inside your neck instead of life-giving air. The world isn't even spinning, just getting foggier and dreamier at the edges until the only thing you can really make out is Roadhog's tattoo and mask looming over your twitching body. When your forehead hits the engine block just below his bellybutton your entire jaw suddenly shifts to the left, echoing painfully up into the top of your head and radiating down your neck like hot water's been dumped on you.

 _'It's not raining outside is it?'_ The thought comes faster than the pain hits, your own body feels far away and too warm and fuzzy for you to be worked up properly. Roadhog was always good on his word for a can of Hogdrogen... 

Roadhog keeps his fingers tangled in the short hairs in the back of your neck; a steady pull and burn distracting you from the hot feeling of puke crawling up your throat again. He shifts forwards again; you feel him throbbing under your palm, jumping against what felt like your lungs or past them, 

_'Over the teeth, past the gums, watch out stomach here it... Comes.'_

Not really, because of the barrier, only there in the first place for his benefit. The heat pouring off of both of you makes you dizzy, in your blurring vision beads of sweat roll down between Roadhog's pecs and over his shuddering belly when he freezes with a groan that's so loud that it sends a shock of real arousal to your neglected cunt. 

His hands squeeze around your neck hard enough you really think,

 _'He's going to kill me...and might not even notice.'_ You swear you feel his cum filling up every part of you that wasn't already taught from dick, but it still isn't enough space at all. 

Globs of gooey spunk foam up around the base of the rubber to slide down your sternum and down lower still to your center. Pushing you off with a grunt, he just let's you collapse on the floor like a deflated balloon or a broken doll with your mouth stuck open and bloody..

You watch him brandish a can set on a low end-table, dick still dripping and red; but the condom is long gone thrown to a corner of the shack. 

 He takes one massive step to get nearer to you and kneel down, catching your aching chin between two fingers when he says, 

"Gotta take care of this first, pop it back where it should be. Of course, you understand. Can't have that pretty face stuck like that..."


End file.
